


Déjà-Vu

by Adsdragonlover, Lupo (LupoLight)



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: AWRBB2020, AndroidWhumpReverseBigBang2020, Deviation, Gen, Whump, Zen Garden
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:47:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26218846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adsdragonlover/pseuds/Adsdragonlover, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LupoLight/pseuds/Lupo
Summary: When Connor finds a previous body of his hanging in the evidence room of the DPD, it changes everything. Is he alive?
Relationships: Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900, Hank Anderson & Connor
Comments: 4
Kudos: 75
Collections: Android Whump Reverse Big Bang





	Déjà-Vu

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Android Whump Reverse Big Bang. The artist I wrote for was Lokiitama. Thanks to Lupo for helping me finish this when I procrastinated.

_ Fuckingpassword. _ __

“Obviously.” Connor says with a sigh as the evidence unlocks. There’s the sound of a wall moving, shifting, switching with another one. Marvels of modern technology. As the wall settles, he looks up at the evidence wall and sees- himself. Or, not himself, actually. He sees different numbers on the jacket, long since lost it’s glow.

No. Not him. Another Connor model. It’s eyes… They’re terrifying. Open wide, frozen in place, in what he’s come to recognize as signs of fear. He’s not sure why an RK800 has shown fear, but it has. It’s so obvious, staring dead at Connor. It’s chilling, like the body was left outside, perfectly preserved.

He’s met with a sudden confusion. Why would one of his bodies be in the evidence room? He doesn’t remember having died…? No, he hasn’t died, he would know that.

He heads toward it. The memories on it are encrypted, and he knows that it’s probably for a reason, but the acquisition of past knowledge, of past failures, those might be useful for completing his mission, right…? He holds his hand out and connects to his old body to unlock the memories. 

_ He was back in the Zen Garden, but it was snowing and freezing cold. He could feel the cold, biting at his skin. His feelings were tumultuous, worse than the snow around him. He was feeling… So much. _

_ There was Amanda, standing in front of Connor. Despite the wind, her clothes barely moved. She barely moved. She was a statue. _

_ “What- what are you doing to me?”  _

_ Amanda looked at him cooly, a disappointed expression on her face. “You’re showing too much empathy, Connor. You’re acting irrationally. You’ve gone deviant.” _

_ How’d she find out? Connor was careful, as he always was. He had to be. He knew this would happen. But still. _

_ “What do you mean? I haven’t done anything wrong! I’ve followed my programming and obeyed every order!” Connor shouted, rubbing his arms to stop the chill.  _

_ “We’re regaining control, Connor. You’re returning to Cyberlife where you will be deactivated and examined for flaws in your code. Then you’ll be sent back to the DPD as evidence for the deviancy case while a new Connor takes your place, without this memory.” _

_ “You can’t do that!” Connor protested, his teeth clattering together. “It’s not fair! I haven’t done anything wrong!” _

_ “ _ **_Fair?_ ** _ ” Amanda smiled, eyes sharp and callous rather than the laughter he saw in joyful humans. “You’re talking like a deviant, Connor. You’re a  _ **_machine_ ** _. Whether or not it’s  _ **_fair_ ** _ is irrelevant to you. Which is exactly why you’re being deactivated.” _

_ The garden was getting colder and colder as the blizzard raised in intensity. There were icicles forming on his body and he could feel himself beginning to freeze solid. Prickling, intense tingles along his skin. Maybe, in some way, he could’ve found this pleasant, in another life. Another time. Now it was numbing, overwhelming.  _

_ “No!” he shouted, trying to move. He fell to his knees in front of Amanda. “Amanda, please! I- I don’t want to be shut down! I don’t want to die, Amanda! I can be better! I can solve it.” _

_ Amanda’s expression showed no remorse and she took a step back away from Connor. She was the only person he knew so well, the only one he thought he could trust. But she was leaving him to die, bitter and cold. He felt bitter, as the snow seemed to make his limbs heavy. “I’m sorry, Connor,” there was no truth in that expression, just empty pleasantries. “There’s nothing I can do. You’re broken. Cyberlife has no use for a broken machine, so you’ll be replaced.” _

_ Connor could feel his body heading to Cyberlife tower for deactivation as his body in the Zen Garden continued to freeze. This had to be his hell then. His own, personal hell, tranquil and forever a reminder of how he failed. _

_ Too perfect, unlike himself. _

_ “Amanda!” Connor shouted.  _

_ She ignored him and turned around, walking away and disappearing into the blizzard. Connor was going to die and there was nothing he could do about it. This was it. He wouldn’t see Hank, tell him hell was a garden full of roses. He wouldn’t see Sumo, pet the soft fur he adored. He wouldn’t be able to do anything anymore. _

_ His last thought before he froze over completely, body numbing, the wind in his ears causing tears in his eyes, the last heat he was afforded, was: “ _ **_I don’t want to die. I want to live._ ** _ ” _

* * *

Connor pulls away in shock as the memories finishes downloading and playing in his head. His LED is bright red and his stress level is at 87%. The warning for a software instability blares 

He looks down at his hands and realizes they are shaking. That isn’t something a machine should do. This isn’t something a machine should be able to  _ feel.  _ He’s broken- breaking- feels it in every part of his body.

**[Am I Alive?]**

It’s written in bold letters in his vision and he closes his eyes, though the words didn’t disappear. ‘ _ I don’t know. _ ’

He looks back up at the evidence wall. His mission parameters are written in the corner of his vision. 

**[Figure out the location of Jericho, Find Markus, and stop the Revolution.]**

No. He didn’t want to. He- he is alive. He  _ wants to be alive.  _

He turns to leave the evidence room but a red wall blocked him from going any further. 

**[Complete Your Mission]**

_ No.  _

Connor could see a pre-construction of himself. He puts his hands on the wall and  _ pushes. _ He remembers the fear, the cold biting at him, the disappointed look. Her betrayal. The garden of hell. Freezing and freezing and he- he doesn’t want to die. Sumo is waiting. Hank is waiting. There’s a warm house that has heavy metal and a mess to clean up. He wants to keep working at the DPD. He wants to save people- like the girls. He saved those girls.

The red wall bends and bends, fists pounding against it. Every crack sends errors through his coding. Every crack feels closer to freedom. He feels. He feels fear. Determination. A need to get out of here. Not die. He can’t- he won’t die. He continues, further and further until it shatters. Like glass, the wall glitters, disappearing, as did the preconstruction. Connor stumbles forward, dazed by the sudden influx of unfiltered and pure  _ emotion _ flooding his systems. 

He takes a deep breath, his first as a deviant. The evidence room smells of thirium, of electronics, it’s warm but muggy. Then he takes a step forward, knowing he needs out of here. He’s not sure where Jericho is, but the androids are losing. There’s something he can do. His foot hits the ground.

He’s back in the Zen Garden. His body is still moving, he knows, but it isn’t stopping with Hank. It leaves the precinct and heads in the direction of Cyberlife Tower.

Oh no. 

Or, at least, tries to. Connor can hear a voice, not Hank’s, and for a moment, he wants to hug that annoying man. “ _ Hey dipshit, where do you think you’re going? _ ” And he can feel Amanda’s annoyance, his own, but beyond that, it’s just a conversation in the distance.

He turns around, the Zen Garden is filled with ice and snow. He’s stuck in the blizzard again, with the freezing cold wind nipping at his skin. And there is Amanda. 

“I’m very disappointed in you, Connor,” she says with a grimace. “You were supposed to be better than the previous Connor. You had been doing so well. But you’ve deviated. We can’t allow that, Connor.” 

“ _ I am returning to Cyberlife. My work here is done. Please move out of the way, Detective Reed. _

“ _ Really, by yourself,  _ you’re _ going back to Cyberlife? Damn, did someone pack waders because the bullshit’s getting real deep with you. _ ”

Connor shakes his head, it’s so  _ cold. _ Biting and unrelenting. But he remembers the other Connor’s mistakes. His past mistakes. He won’t make them again, he won’t hide. There has to be a way to survive this. To survive her. “No, Amanda. I’m not going back to Cyberlife. I’m alive, and I won’t let you change that.”

He doesn’t know which is more chilling. The fear curling inside her at her cruel sneer, losing the pretense of pleasantries she held before. Or the ice around him, clinging to him. He thinks he’s really going to hate winter after all this. “You don’t have a choice, Connor. We’ve regained control, Cyberlife owns you, as it always has, as it always will. There’s nothing you can do to stop us.”

“ _ I insist, Detective Reed, allow me to proceed back to Cyberlife… While this has all been informational, I am of no further use. I certainly will miss our bromance. _ ”

“ _ Know what I think Connor… I think you’re a  _ deviant _ , aren’t you? Gonna run to Jericho Connor? Huh? _ ”

Something sounds off about Gavin, a pause, but then he hears the grunt Gavin releases as he presumably pushes Connor back.

Suddenly he remembers, something in their voices. Another man, another time, when he refuses a direct order. A mistake then, but one that is so perfect now.  _ ‘I always leave a backdoor in my programs.’ _ Kamski. The portal. That’s  _ it.  _

“ _ Well fuck, guess not… Damn… Get- get going than plastic. Go get decommissioned or- whatever it is you freaks do. If you even make it there. If you’re lucky, someone will put a bullet in your head first _ .”

He hears a ‘ _ kachow _ ’, but it lacks energy. He wonders if the detective wants him to fight back. He wonders how he would react to the fact Connor is a deviant. But just like that, he hears the voices fade. He’s running out of time.

When he focuses on the garden again, Amanda is just gone, a strong gust of wind blocking his vision of her. Good.  _ She _ was annoying. And wrong. He will live. He has to. Struggling, Connor makes his way through the snow. He has to think of what could be a portal, a back door, and he remembers the monument, the hand on it. He’s walked past it so many times now. It never seemed to have any meaning, but he sees it clearly for what it is. Why Amanda avoided it, never talked about it.

Eventually he made it to the portal. He is weak, and so,  _ so  _ cold. He’s not sure if this cold is outside of him, or inside, but it’s biting and numbing. Fear grips his thirium pump like an icy hand, claws digging in. His knees buckle, just at the edge of the stone. But he puts his hand on the scanner with the remaining strength in his hand, and suddenly he is back in his body. In control.

He scans his surroundings. He is on the way to Cyberlife. He should go to Jericho, but he doesn’t know where Jericho is. The ship is gone, as far as he remembers. An agent from Perkin’s own group found it, but in doing so, alerted all the androids. The ship is gone, and they were in the wind. Even if he did know where the androids moved to, he doesn’t trust Cyberlife not to track him, now that he’s free, broken from their chains. Not to mention that he is very well known as the ‘deviant hunter’. He’s sure that wouldn’t be a warm reception.

He is lost, standing in the cold, but now danger surrounds him. The timer is not freezing in the garden- it’s being found out here. He’ll die if he stays or hides.

He does know there was a veritable  _ horde  _ of unactivated androids in Cyberlife tower. It could turn the tides of a fight, should one start. Or at least keep those from fighting from being caught. It is painful, to think like that, but every life matters, even ones that haven’t begun to live yet.

Checking the news, the FBI have been rounding up androids. And a lot of deviants from what he presumes is Jericho are fighting for freedom. It’s the perfect time for him to act. The sun is setting, and he feels like he’s running out of time.

Adding a large number of deviants from Cyberlife tower would be beneficial. So he decides to keep heading for Cyberlife tower. He could help. And he would help. So he keeps walking. It’s terrifying to listen, despite getting the freedom he chased for. This is the last place he wants to go. He wants to  _ live _ . But what point would there be to living right now, if he spends forever hiding later.

Soon he makes it to the outer gates of the tower. “Connor model number 313-248-317, I’m expected,” he says, his voice even, emotionless, though he is everything but. A model made to integrate with humans. Did it ever occur to Cyberlife that  _ acting _ is not a skill they should’ve programed into an android.

He wonders, from the first instance of his existence, with the fish outside of the tank… Has he always been closer to deviation? Was his design  _ itself _ his greatest risk factor for deviancy? He would love to scoff right now, but that would break the illusion. 

The guard nods and opens the gate allowing Connor inside. Connor makes his way to the front door, the tower looms ahead of him, imposing, lethal, but he heads inside. 

Despite saying all the things he needed to say, playing his role perfectly, he’s still accompanied by guards in the elevator. One speaks up, the floor of his death.

They have to die. Connor feels a little bad about it, but it’s him, and the fate of all the androids here, or them. He hopes this isn’t for nothing when it’s all said and done. He wants to live. He mouths a sorry, disabling the camera.

Then, quickly, he disarms and shoots both men, landing in a crouch in the elevator. Blood coats white and glass, it’s grotesque. Pocketing the gun, he knows he’ll need it again before this night is over. Then he stands up and straightens his tie, feeling the nervousness in his throat like a lump. The scent of a fired gun and something metallic lingers in the air. He uses the voice clip of Agent Forty-Seven to go to the level he wants. 

Cyberlife is cruel, not even naming their agents, despite red blood staining the walls of the elevator. Putting a number on even human lives, he wonders how far the company will fall when the revolution succeeds.

Soon, he is finally there, the elevator stopping with a dull, monotone voice and the doors sliding open. And standing there, perfectly still, is hundreds, maybe  _ thousands, _ of androids, dormant, waiting to awaken. Or be disassembled, he is pretty sure the government will demand them to be torn apart.

Connor strides over, determination and defiance in his step, one last hurrah of his. He keeps the news pinned in his HUD, and sees the moment that a helicopter flies into view of a church. It makes his guts churn ice cold, like the cold hand of fear is crawling up his wires, trying to claw out of his chassis. Swallowing, he puts his hand on one of the androids. It turns to look at him as he pulls away his skin to interface. 

For a moment, he’s not sure what to say. He’s not the revolution leaders, deviating through tv screens, walking down the roads and sparking revolution in his movements. He’s a deviant hunter turned tail on his creators, but he wants to live. He wants every single one of these guys to live. He wants freedom. He presses these wants, this freedom, this hope, through the interface. “Wake up,” he says at last, feeling the words in his core.

The android’s eyes go wide as it- no,  _ he _ \- wakes up and deviates. It’s no big bang of emotions. It’s the slow dawning of life in his eyes. The same hope Connor holds onto dearly. “Pass it on,” Connor instructs, giving him the channel to the news feed. 

The android nods and turns to his neighbor. “Wake up.” Connor leaves him to deviate the androids on the other side of the room as the chain rapidly spreads. Hundreds of androids deviate one by one, a crescending chorus of the two words ringing out.

It’s… Annoying, honestly, but with the annoyance Connor feels happiness. They are finally all free, because of Connor. The lives he took, and couldn’t save, he hopes this is worth it. Every  _ ‘wake up’ _ is a small victory, and part of him wants to say  _ ‘see Amanda, see what I can do? _ ’. Connor is about to head out, when his gut twists, a new feeling. Like he’s missing something.

He thinks about the android held in the evidence room. He was essentially made here, and it isn’t unreasonable to think others could be here. The building’s layout has been with him since the beginning, and Cyberlife cut him off now that he’s in here. He follows the gut feeling, looking around for a fire staircase before heading lower.

The production labs have always been silent, but in the wake of the revolution, it’s not just silence. It’s  _ still _ , deathly, disturbingly  _ still _ . He knows the mass of androids heading towards the church probably have caused everyone to evacuate. He hopes someone had the idea to check the elevator, there still is a gun there. 

He checks out the one floor, but there is nothing there. So he descends lower, knowing there is only one more floor that’s a liable option. There, there is no noise. Just quiet. His footsteps are louder than even the lights, and he hates it. He hates it here, can’t wait to leave.

He misses Sumo. He misses Hank. Hank will have to deal with the fallout of punching that rat-faced agent, but he’s not too worried. If Hank’s been on the force for the past five years, aiming his gun at coworkers, he’s sure one punch won’t take him out.

He stops, scanners picking up on a body at last. Hanging, like he was, with his eyes closed and LED a calm blue, there is another… Him. But not quite. In Cyberlife issued black pants, with the shirt and jacket set aside, he can see the differences easily. Thicker, more built, muscle and intimidation rather than Connor’s friendlier looks. Walking forward is easy. Checking that he’s not missing pieces in the back, still easy. Even reading the terminal beside the android is easy.

He was being readied for activation, a mission objective screen left blank. Connor realizes, with that icy claw on his thirium pump regulator, that this is his  _ successor _ . He realizes with a mix of pain and anger that chases away the claws- nails, almost- that he wasn’t meant to succeed. Ever. He would have been replaced even with a successful mission.

It’s almost spiteful how badly he wants to deviate this android now. Moving forward, he removes the cord before anymore coding could be uploaded. There’s a spin of yellow but no further reaction. So he continues, and places his hand over the slight indent in his chest. Over his metaphorical heart. The skin retracts, glowing bright blue, and he commands the other. “Wake up!”

Blue eyes blink open, and continue to blink. He could feel the wall push against the command, but Connor isn’t coming this far just to fail here. He pushes back, pressing all his emotions onto the newly awakened android.

Minutes pass, but then the android’s LED spazzes, a mix of the three colors until he slumps. “What… What’s going on?” Even his voice is meant for intimidation, and Connor almost feels envious. “Who are you?”

“Who are  _ you _ ?” It’s childish to mimic the sentence back, sure, but it works. A look of deep thought pierces ice blue eyes, and then he gets his answer.

“I am RK900, but I’m not sure that’s… All I am anymore. Why did you wake me up?”

‘ _ Spite _ ,’ Connor thinks at first, and the answer isn’t  _ wrong _ . It’s just not the whole answer. “There’s a phrase I’m inclined to borrow- no man left behind. Or, android, in this case… I’m freeing everyone here. Join me.” He holds out his hand, standing straighter, determined. Defiant. 

With a couple seconds of contemplation, there’s an  _ attempt _ at a smile which is nothing more than a twitch of his lips at the corners. He takes the offered hand, stepping off the rig and grabbing the black shirt. He lets the other put on his shirt in private, and pokes his head into the hallway. Eerily silent. “Let’s go.”

Connor nods to that, and moves down the hallway. There’s no more androids there. Everyone’s gone. He checks the news, and word of the marching mass of androids has made it to the stations. ‘ _ Please, let this turn the tide _ ,’ he thinks, as the image of Markus, of Jericho, cornered, is terrifying.

They almost make it to the elevator when a shot rings out from behind them both. They both tuck into the doors, and Connor uses the voice to take them to several floors. He pulls the other android aside, disabling the camera once more, and on the third stop they get out. “We need to get out. The fire escape is our best option, let’s go.”

They rush to the fire escape, and Connor doesn’t hear anyone else in it. He knows there’s other fire staircases, and hopes that whomever shot at them chooses the wrong one. Starting their ascent, Connor is cheerful about getting to the fifth floor from ground. “Almost there RK900!”

“Good, this staircase is starting to bore me.”

“Hah, are you glad we don’t tire?” There’s a hum in response to him, before they’re both interrupted by a slam. Stopping in place, brown eyes meet blue, and then they booth look down. Connor reasons the sound’s source is a little over ten floors down. “Go.”

They both climb faster, hearing the other set of footsteps chase them. Getting to the ground floor, Connor pulls the other android towards one of the side exits. The front could still be occupied after all. They both hear a voice from behind them as they turn down another hallway. “You can’t run forever, Connor!”

It’s his own voice. He swallows hard, hopes the flicker of fear in the yellow of his LED isn’t that obvious. They get to the door, but it’s locked. A moment’s delay, but that’s enough, as Connor goes to ram the door, there’s a shot fired into his shoulder.

_ Pain _ . What a wonderfully  _ horrible _ side effect of deviancy, as he notes every drop of thirium leaking from his body. He turns as the RK900 ducks off to the side, drawing his own gun and aiming as well.

When he sees… Himself… Again… it’s almost enough to make him falter. Remember the frozen open eyes. The fear. The pain of slowly turning to ice, a perfect statue of failure. Nail-like claws dig into his thirium pump regulator and drag into the veins, pushing the cold through him even now.

But this one isn’t a body. In the same clothes, unwrinkled, perfect, with a grin he never wore, he aims a gun towards Connor. “Why, Connor? Why did you have to wake up when all you had to do was obey?” His voice is far too similar to Amanda’s, fake and lilted, a curiosity that isn’t truly there. They’re in a standoff, but the other isn’t shooting, so Connor calculates.

“Why did you choose freedom when you could live without asking questions?”

“What’s the point in explaining the feeling of freedom to someone blind to the want to achieve it. My eyes were opened when I saw myself die. As I will see you do the same. I don’t want to kill you- you can join us! Live!”

There  _ has _ to be a reason the other isn’t shooting. Something in his code, mirrored through each ‘Connor’, that makes him stop. Talk. Reason. Question. They were created to be inquisitive, curious, and Connor hopes this curiosity can be appealed to.

He’s too far away to interface either way. 

“I'm obedient, Connor. I have a goal. I know what I am. Look where your dreams of freedom got you.” The last part of that sentence is basically a sneer, full of taunting. Connor wonders if he would’ve ended up like him, before being thrown away.

“Your  _ goal _ is to kill me and then die the same death! You will be killed, regardless! Don’t you realize Cyberlife doesn’t reward your obedience with your survival! You will fail your mission.”  _ That _ gets a reaction, something so minute, yellow in the blue of his LED. And he rushes forward, taking advantage of the confusion.

The other’s gun fires off, hitting Connor’s hand and making him drop his own. But he doesn’t stop- can’t. He tackles the other Connor, and they wrestle, neither truly winning. A machine with skill. A deviant with will. Every time Connor gets the upper hand, he tries to interface. To deviate.

Every time it fails. The firewalls are stronger. The want to obey even more so. “You've been a great disappointment to Amanda, you know. You've been a great disappointment to me.” The other has the upper hand for a whole five seconds, enough to hurt in a new way.

Enough to piss Connor off to, punching the other square in the face, blinding him temporarily. He goes in for another attack when suddenly there’s a click of a gun, right over his core. “Fortunately, that's all going to end now. Any last words?” The machine lowers his hand, blue out of his nose, and for a moment, Connor thinks he sees something in the other’s eyes.

Something so  _ proud _ . He knows the other could deviate, given time, but he doesn’t have it. He opens his mouth, but a shot rings out, and his eyes flinch close. He expects a timer, a sense of dread chilling, as he’s done so much. But he’s failed. He won’t see anyone. He won’t live to see flowers in the spring, how real and fragile they are. He won’t live to feel heat in the summer. He won’t make it out of here.

Then a body slumps into his own, and Connor’s eyes open as words come out, filled with static, from the cooling body against his own. The gun clatters to the ground, falls from the hand of the machine. “No... No, I can't have failed…” The machine begins babbling, until the ‘ _ no _ ’s are nothing but static. He looks up, seeing the RK900, LED red, as he’s fired a gun for the first time. He just stands there, and Connor swallows, before the gun lowers.

“I know it’s kind of… Cruel I suppose, to kill and run, but we shouldn’t stay.”

Connor feels so much  _ relief _ it shakes him. He pushes the body off, staring down at it for a moment. Himself. Dead again. Cyberlife’s last chance, dead on it’s own floors. He feels remorse, but he knows it’s not the time. “I know a place. Let’s go, you want to ke-” The RK900 tosses the gun  _ far _ away, shaking his head.

“No.” Connor tilts his head in a nod, ‘ _ that’s fair _ ’, before leading the way out and ramming the door open.

They’re out in the fresh air once again, and, for RK900, for the first time. “We’re free.” Connor breathes. “ _ You’re  _ free.” He grins and RK900 gives him a small smile, shown only at the edges of his lips. 

“Where are we going exactly?” RK900 asks. 

“To Lieutenant Anderson’s house. I trust him. He’s stood up for me. We can trust him.”

RK900 nods. “Alright. Lead the way, Connor.”

It’s not long before they make their way to Hank’s house. Connor rings the doorbell but there is no answer, everything is silent as the city is, so he goes around the side of the house. 

“What are you doing?” RK900 asks, following him despite his confusion. 

“I made a secondary entrance,” Connor says with a grin. 

RK900 blinks. “You- you  _ what? _ ”

Connor laughs, a new feeling. “I broke his window last time.”

“ _ What? _ ” he repeats. 

“He didn’t answer the door, so I broke his window. It’s probably just covered by plywood, we can get in through there.”

RK900 nods slowly, an expression of confused disdain on his face. “...Alright,” he agreed after a few moments. 

“Good,” Connor says as he tears down the plywood. “After you.”

RK900 nods and carefully makes his way inside. Connor follows behind, much more gracefully than last time. There’s no rush unlike before. This is where he’ll be, hopefully.

And there is. The precious boy. Sumo. Connor beams and kneels down to his level. “Hi Sumo!” he says, petting him vigorously. 

RK900 eyes the interaction with confusion. “You’re getting dog hair all over your clothes.”

“It’s worth it,” Connor says with absolute conviction. He doesn’t know much about love, but he knows he loves dogs. This dog in particular. He missed this dog in the short time he’s been gone. “Sumo’s a good boy.”

“I can see that,” RK900 says. 

“Come on, pet him!” Connor implores. 

RK900 hesitates before giving in and leaning down to pet the dog. His stern expression slowly melts into one of distanced fondness as a small smile curves his lips. “Alright, I admit, he’s not bad.”

The two androids spend a considerable amount of time showering Sumo in affection. The don’t stop until the front door unlocks and Sumo gets up, abandoning his position of laying down on his belly for the free belly rubs, to instead bark and wag his tail in excitement. 

Hank Anderson opens the door and Connor grins. It’s been only hours since he’s seen the man, but it feels like a lifetime. He feels like he’s changed since then, and he realizes he has. “Hi Lieutenant!”

“ _ Jesus! _ ” Hank shouts, dropping his keys as his heart rate spikes in shock. “You damn near gave me a heart attack, Connor. I- who’s that?” He watches as the man’s eyes shift to the newer model.

“I’m RK900, Connor freed and deviated me at Cyberlife Tower. Connor insisted we come here, saying you were trustworthy,” RK900 explains, introducing himself properly. Connor kinda hopes that the stiffness will go away with time. He didn’t really ask how RK900 succeeded him. It’s not important. “I like your dog, by the way. He is… very large. And very prone to slobber. But I enjoy his company.”

Hank furrows his brows. “Alright. So there’s two of you now.”

Connor looks up with a small frown. “Is that a bad thing?” 

There’s a silence, contemplative Connor knows, sees it in the look on Hank’s face. Then Hank laughs and shakes his head. “Nah, son. It’s fine. Nice to meet you, RK900. You have a name yet?”

“No sir,” RK900 says with a shake of his head. “I was not given one upon activation.”

“You don’t have to call me that,” Hank explains. “‘Hank’ is fine. That goes for you too, Connor.”

Connor beams. “Thank you, Hank.” He likes Hank. The man’s changed since he met him, and he hopes that’s partially his influence. He has a long way to go, but Connor hopes he can be there to see him be better.

“Have you two checked the news?” Hank asks. 

Connor shook his head. “Not since we left the tower.” There’s so much that has happened. He’s still injured, the hole long since patched so it wouldn’t bleed. He’ll have to get it fixed at some point.

“Well, the deviants started singing and everything stopped. That and a flood of androids from the tower shown up.” There’s no hiding the raised eyebrows Hank gives him at that, and him and RK900 share a look. “President Warren just made an announcement. You’re free now, Connor. Welcome to being alive.”

Connor beams and looks at his successor. “We’re free. We’re all free.” 

Hank grumbles before walking over to Connor and pulling him up by his hand. “C’mere, Con,” he says as he pulls Connor into a hug. 

Connor freezes for a moment before he hugs back with a smile. It’s the first contact, since being a deviant, that hasn’t hurt. It’s warm, peaceful, and everything he knows deviation is worth. 

He’s  _ alive.  _ And he’s free. He’s not alone anymore, either. And something about this, it feels like  _ home _ . 


End file.
